


Let’s Not Mind the Store After All

by Reyka_Sivao



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Communication, Consent, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e05 Amok Time, Erotica, First Time, Gentleness, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Pon Farr aftermath, Sexual Inexperience, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Mind Melds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:55:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28619145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyka_Sivao/pseuds/Reyka_Sivao
Summary: Amok Time episode tag.  Spock may be fine now...or at least, not actively dying...but they still have a lot to talk about and a lot to understand about what they want to offer each other.Kirk and Spock have to actually communicate with words, but in a way that lets them take their time.“TOS-flavor” writing, which I’ll have you know makes writing sexytimes rather difficult.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 28
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

He was alive.

Spock stood rigidly in the turbolift, trying to gather himself for half a shift pretending to be normal, but he couldn’t stop looking. He would pull his eyes away from Jim’s face, and before he could stop them, they’d be back again, trying to drink in his skin by sheer force of will.

Jim was mostly staring ahead at nothing in particular.

Abruptly, Jim sighed.

“Kirk to bridge,” he said into the lift’s comm unit as he paused it between decks.

“Aye, captain?” said Uhura’s voice from the wall.

“That Vulcan gravity really did a number on me,” he said easily. “Unless anything looks likely to change, I’m calling captain’s privilege and leaving the rest of you to your own devices.”

“Situation normal, everything looks good.”

“Excellent. Just try to keep her in one piece.”

“Aye sir,” said Uhura with a note of amusement in her voice.

Kirk shut off the wall comm and redirected the turbolift toward the deck where the officer’s quarters were.

He gave Spock a long look. “And so are you.”

“Captain, I am fully able to—”

Kirk raised a hand to stave off Spock’s objections, but the lift door opened before Spock could finish formulating his objections.

“So. My quarters or yours?”

“....captain?”

Jim sighed. “We need to talk,” he said. “We both know it, and if not now, then...well, I can think of nothing worse than having a huge unspeakable wedge grow between us.” He stopped in front of his own door and gestured towards Spock’s. “So. Yours or mine?”

Spock thought about the wreckage of the computer terminal on his desk.

“Yours.”

Jim nodded and led him in.

Spock stopped inside the door, still standing all but at attention. Jim, a few steps ahead, paused and turned back around.

“Spock…”

“Captain,” said Spock. “I feel that I can only begin with an apology, though no apology can erase the magnitude of my actions.”

Jim pressed his lips together. “Spock,” he tried again, gently. “That’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”

“What else is there to speak of, captain?”

That earned him a sad smile. “Captain?” he said softly. “Not Jim?”

“I...Jim.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Spock looked up before he had realized he’d looked down. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

“Do you think I can’t see it in your eyes? I don’t...Spock. I don’t want you to be afraid of yourself either.”

“I killed you.”

“News to me,” said Jim with a smile that fell flat.

“While my actions, due to outside circumstances, did not result in your demise, I nevertheless acted in a manner meant to cause it. While I am not guilty of your death, I am culpable for it.”

“You aren’t,” said Jim. “But I don’t think that’s really the point here. If you are, then I forgive you.”

“Why?”

Spock instantly regretted the question when he saw the look of pain flash through Jim’s eyes.

“Why? Because I know you. Spock. Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself. Do you know why I did what I did?”

“Because you were asked to.”

“Because I wanted to. Maybe I misunderstood the context, but...what I wanted to do was make the same offer I always want to give you: let me help.”

Spock closed his eyes.

He couldn’t afford this. Couldn’t afford to feel the trembling in his hands, the racing of his heart...but even that was better than feeling the flood of deliberately nameless emotions that his loss of control had unleashed.

There was too long a silence, and then Jim sighed. “And it’s still on the table,” he said. “But...I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you here. I just wanted...to make sure you know that I don’t resent you. I don’t think any less of you. And I don’t want you to pull away.” He took another breath. “That’s it. I’ve spoken my piece.”

Spock slowly opened his eyes. Jim was looking downcast.

He was free to leave.

He didn’t want to.

“Jim…”

Jim looked up. “Hmm?”

“Earlier. You said you couldn’t think of anything worse than a wedge growing between us.”

“I did.”

“I...do not understand how you can still believe that. But I would have you know that I value it.”

Slowly, a smile lit up Jim’s eyes, and once again Spock could not tear his eyes away from the beautiful sight of Jim, alive and well and so near to him.

“I’m glad,” said Jim, taking a step closer.

Spock froze, not sure if he was more afraid that Jim would come closer still, or that he would move away again.

Jim paused, and then stepped at an angle instead, making a pretext of examining one of the books on shelf next to Spock, putting them almost shoulder to shoulder and breaking the line of eye contact.

“You know,” he said, in the casual voice he reserved for the most serious situations, “if you’re not all right, you can tell me.”

“My life is no longer in danger.”

Spock could only see the edge of Jim’s face, but even from that angle, the smile was still sad. “No, Spock. That’s not what I said.”

“It may be a few days before I am completely recovered, however…”

Jim let out a sigh. “Spock. I’m not asking you as a captain when you’ll be fit for duty. I’m asking you, as a friend, if you’re willing to trust me with what you really need.”

Spock was silent, and forced himself to really hear it. Was he willing?

“I...do trust you, Jim. With my life. Even with...this.” He swallowed. “I am less sure that I can trust myself.”

Jim glanced over and gave him a long look that seemed to peel layers away from Spock’s skin. “And what is it you need that you don’t trust?”

“I…”

Spock trailed off, at a loss to formulate any answer that even approached the truth. The truth that he couldn’t bear the thought of being either closer or further away.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Spock couldn’t answer that either.

Jim sighed. “Would you like to leave?” he said.

“....no.”

Jim looked at him.

“I find your proximity...steadying.”

It was as much of an admission as he could put words to.

Jim finally turned and faced him fully. “Spock,” he said, and put his hand on Spock’s shoulder.

Spock shuddered. It was the first time Jim had touched him since the sands, when he had been trying to pull Spock’s hands from his neck. The memory was fragmented and disjointed, but the brush of Jim’s hands against his stood out in relief.

Jim’s hand on his arm tightened slightly. “Are you all right?”

“Jim,” said Spock, pulling himself back to the present. “Jim. You are alive.”

“And so are you,” said Jim, with that smile. That smile that Spock drank in like water to the dying.

The fabric of his uniform under Jim’s hand was so vast a distance. With only half an intent, Spock raised his own hand to hold Jim’s against his shoulder.

Jim made a noise of surprise. Shame rose in Spock’s throat at having made such a display, but he couldn’t bring himself to retreat.

“Spock…” said Jim. He trailed off, but moved in closer. Slowly, he raised his other hand to match the first on Spock’s other shoulder. He locked eyes with Spock, and Spock wanted to drown in them.

Perhaps he shouldn’t. Perhaps it would have been better if he had walked away. But he didn’t want to.

More deliberately this time, he copied his previous gesture so that he was pressing both of Jim’s hands against himself.

“Jim...I….”

“You what?” breathed Kirk.

“I...am unsure,” confessed Spock. “I wish to tell you something important, but I do not know what it is.”

“Maybe you can show me.”

Show him?

Everything in him said that this was improper, that he should not even be here. But...propriety had sentenced Jim to death.

Spock let the fingers of his right hand drift down the back of Kirk’s, tracing the veins down to his wrist and back up again.

Kirk’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t pull away, so Spock continued.

“Spock...should I…?”

“Should you what?”

Carefully, as though trying not to break something fragile, Jim slipped his own right hand away from Spock’s shoulder and toward the side where Spock’s fingers were still caressing him. Keeping his eyes on Spock’s face, searching for a reaction, he reached under Spock’s hand and entwined their fingers.

Sparks ran all the way up Spock’s arm, but they did not burn him.

“Jim…” Spock raised his free hand and brushed the backs of his fingers up Jim’s jaw. “Jim. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know.” Jim smiled up into his eyes. “I think you wanted something else.”

Wanted? What had he wanted? He wanted it so badly.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice almost cracking with softness. “Tell me what it is I wanted.”

Jim’s smile glowed even brighter. “You didn’t want to hurt me. But right then, that was the only way you could touch me.”

“...touch you,” murmured Spock. “I…wanted to touch you.”

“Right then, that was the only way. But, Spock...it’s not right then anymore. Right here, right now, there’s nothing stopping you.”

Spock’s skin suddenly ached everywhere that wasn’t already touching him. He needed, but this time it was not something he could pretend was separate and divorcible from his nature. It was truly and deeply a part of him, and it was not new.

“You don’t have to fear it,” said Jim. “It’s...it’s all right, Spock. You can touch me.”

“I…” Spock bit back the taste of exhilarated terror. “I do not know how.”

“I think you do,” said Jim, very softly. “It’s just hard to let yourself.”

Spock’s hands trembled, and it grew until he shuddered. “Jim…”

Their hands were still entwined against his shoulder.

Slowly, Spock pulled their joined hands down between them. Jim watched, but let him take the lead.

Spock stared for a long moment, and then slowly, almost painfully, pulled his hand away just a little. Jim watched and didn’t move.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Spock folded two fingers down, and held out the first two. He looked up again and saw the question in Jim’s eyes.

“The ozh-esta,” he said. “A gesture of….intimacy.”

“Like this?” Jim mimicked his pose and held out his own two fingers.

“Yes.”

It was only one word, but it was almost more than he could say.

Slowly, so much too slowly, Spock let his fingers drift forward and make the slightest contact with Jim’s, letting just the pads of their fingertips press together, and then he let his mental shields fall.

“Oh,” said Jim. “I...oh.”

The sparking effect was even stronger now, tinged with flashes of emotion—Jim’s joy, Spock’s terror, Jim’s uncertainty, Spock’s elation.

After a moment of eternity, Spock pulled his fingers away.

“I think I see...why you don’t shake hands.”

“Indeed. It is...uncomfortably intimate.”

“Well. Let’s stay with the comfortably intimate, shall we?”

“I am...open to suggestions.”

Jim smiled and reached up to brush his fingers down Spock’s sleeve. “I can...think of a few options. But I don’t know what you’d be all right with.”

“...nor do I,” Spock admitted softly.

“Well. How do you feel about clothes?”

“What about them?”

“Wearing them. Or not wearing them. With me.”

“I…”

It took a moment for Spock to gather his scattered wits. Clothing? He could...simply not wear it?

“I...have previously been in situations with you where we have been shirtless. That, at least, would not be an entirely unknown quantity.”

“Well, it’s not exactly a conventional method, but I’ll...take that as a request.”

Jim pulled away, smiled, and then pulled his uniform top over his head and let it fall to the floor. “How’s this?”

Spock’s eyes once again drank in Jim’s form, but this time there was even more to take in and he almost could not take it in without overflowing.

There was a red line across his chest where Spock’s lirpa had cut him. Before he realized he was doing it, Spock was reaching out to run his fingers reverently over the mark.

“I’m fine,” said Jim. “It was never deep, and Bones already patched me up.”

“I believe you,” said Spock, but without pulling away. “However, I find it...comforting...to feel it.”

“I’m glad.” Jim let Spock trace the mark for a moment. “May I...have the pleasure of returning the favor?”

Spock paused, and then drew away to remove his own shirt. Then he stopped, considered, and let his hand fall to the waistband of his uniform pants.

“Oh?” said Jim. “Pants too?”

“...yes.”

Jim let his pants fall carelessly by his shirt. Spock carefully folded both and set them down, and then stood in his undergarments, still feeling less exposed than he had when he’d had to tell Jim the reason for his trip to Vulcan.

“You’re built like a statue,” said Jim appreciatively.

“Any body type can be depicted in statuary.”

Jim laughed. “True. However, I...intended to convey a sense of aesthetic appreciation.”

“I too experience a sense of awe at the presence of your physical form.”

With a smile, Jim extended his hand—not with two fingers extended, but ready to take Spock’s hand in his. “Come. Let’s go sit down.”

Spock let Jim guide him to the bed.

“I want to be clear,” said Jim casually. “I’m not...I’m not demanding anything. My affection for you won’t change, whether you want to share my bed or just play chess. And if you don’t know, well, we’ve got all the time in the world to figure it out.”

Something settled in Spock’s chest, and then he suddenly realized he was very, very tired.

“Yes,” he said. “We have time.”

Jim reached out and stroked Spock’s arm. “It’s been a long day,” he said. “We both need rest.”

“True,” said Spock, but he didn’t want the moment to end.

“Here,” said Jim, and pulled up the covers. “Would you care to join me? It’s a little snug, but I’m sure we’ll fit if you want.”

Jim’s eyes held so much promise, and it was all offered to him freely.

Slowly, Spock slid closer, and he could feel the heat from Jim’s skin even before they touched.

Jim let his hands slide around Spock’s frame and pulled him closer.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. “I feel like I’ve missed you, even though you’ve never been here before.”

“I am also grateful that circumstances have brought us here.”

“Hmm,” said Jim, his eyelids already starting to slip downward. “You’re warm.”

Spock let his body settle closer to Jim’s, fitting against him like he had always been there and was always meant to be.

“T’hy’la,” he murmured. “Nearest to my soul.”

Jim smiled with his eyes closed, and for that moment, that was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock isn’t ready to let go, but he finds Jim’s reactions...worth exploring.

Spock woke slowly, coming to stages of awareness one after the other. 

Awareness of being, awareness of form. 

Awareness of arms around his body. 

He let his eyes drift open, sure before he could remember that he was safe. 

Jim was already looking at him. He was smiling. 

“Morning. Are you...feeling better?”

Spock took a slow breath to evaluate his answer. 

“...yes,” he said. “I am.”

“Good,” said Jim, and then fell into an easy silence. He let his fingers drift up and down Spock’s arm. 

Spock took a moment to simply experience the moment. The warmth of Jim’s form—so near—sank into him, and Jim’s fingers played across his skin. 

He shifted, just slightly, almost afraid to break the moment. But he wanted so badly to return that touch. 

He reached out and placed his palm flat against Jim’s chest, directly over his human heart. He left it there for a few beats, and then let his hand drift down to Jim’s belly. 

“Hmm,” said Jim contentedly. 

Spock grew a little bolder, and drew the backs of his fingernails back up Jim’s chest, and over his shoulder and down what he could reach of his back. 

Jim shivered violently, and then Spock felt something press against his thigh. 

With a slightly awkward laugh, Jim shifted back a little. “Well. I suppose you know I’m not faking enjoyment here.”

Spock considered the situation. “I must admit I am unsure what to do.”

Jim shook his head. “You don’t need to do anything. Sometimes bodies just do things at inconvenient times.”

“So you are content to remain as we are for a time?”

“More than content.”

After another moment’s consideration, Spock drifted his hand around Jim’s hip and towards his lower back, and gently tugged him closer again. “Jim. There is nowhere else I would rather be. And if it takes some time to understand, I can think of no better use of that time.”

Jim smiled again and stroked Spock’s shoulderblade. “Likewise. We may have very different approaches to...biology...but I think we can find a place where we’re both happy.”

Spock found himself longing to experience Jim’s easy familiarity with his own biology. 

“Jim...would you…”

“Hmm? Would I what?”

Spock took a deep breath. “I find myself wishing to...touch your mind.”

“Oh,” Jim breathed. “I...oh. Yes. I would like that.”

Spock reached up and brushed the backs of his fingers across Kirk’s cheek. “Are you certain it would not be an imposition?”

Jim placed his hand on Spock’s, keeping it against his face. “With you? Never.”

Slowly, Spock turned his hand over and let his fingers make their way to the meld points on Jim’s face. 

“My mind to your mind,” he murmured. “My thoughts…”

Maybe he finished the phrase aloud. Maybe he didn’t. 

Their awareness merged like an image coming into focus. 

Each of their bodies, entwined on the bed under them, seemed just as at home as the other. They had four arms and two hearts beating out of sync but it was somehow right and not strange. 

_ Maybe Plato was right,  _ thought Jim’s half of their mind with a ripple of blue-green amusement. The reference was at the surface of his memory, so Spock understood it too. 

_ A fascinating allegory from a race without telepathic abilities.  _

Another ripple of amusement flowed through their minds and into Jim’s body, and their awareness was drawn to the still half-aroused state of his physical form. 

Jim gave the psychic equivalent of a shrug.  _ It is what it is. Unless you’re bothered, I don’t care.  _

_ It is… _

Words failed, but they did not need words. 

Spock’s body vibrated with tension. Even Jim’s touch filled him with a kind of bone deep dread, the promise that his control, his own body, were on borrowed time. That the fire had faded, but was only waiting for its chance; that any leeway he allowed himself to experience—

_ You don’t have to.  _

Jim pulled the focus back to himself. 

_ Just because I do doesn’t mean you have to.  _

Jim let himself stretch luxuriously on the bed, and Spock could feel his every muscle basking in the simple pleasure. 

Spock opened his eyes. 

The connection lessened, and then slipped away, leaving a sense of loss. 

“Jim,” he said aloud, but trailed off before he could allow himself to complete the thought. 

“You want something.” 

Jim’s eyes were still closed but he smiled and was warming beyond any environmental control. 

“I…”

Did he? Did he want? Did he allow himself to want?

“I want to touch you.”

Jim did open his eyes at that. 

“I...wish to touch you...as you wish to be touched.”

“Without...reciprocation?”

Spock looked down. 

“Yes. It is...still too much. But perhaps...I can learn what this facet of biology means to you. Perhaps eventually it will mean similar to me.”

“Well. You...certainly have my permission. And don’t worry—” he added to forestall Spock’s next question—“I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.”

“Very well.”

Spock looked away from Jim’s eyes, momentarily overcome by the background hum of shame at being here, doing anything at all here with Jim. But the thought of being anywhere else was even more painful. 

He let one hand make its way to Jim’s belly, and let it rest a moment, feeling Jim’s easy breathing. Then he traced his way up towards Jim’s hip until he found the valley that led down toward the joining of Jim’s legs. 

The waistband of Jim’s undergarments stood in the way. Spock wasn’t sure he would ever be able to cross it, but he ghosted his fingers right up to the edge. 

Jim’s breath hitched when he stopped, and then increased its rate. 

Signs of eagerness, Spock noted absently. Perhaps...perhaps if he continued, he would find that Jim would provide more of this fascinating response. 

Before he could think too hard about it, he slipped his hand beneath Jim’s waistband until he found hair. 

“Spock…”

Jim shifted, trying to twist closer, and his breath escaped with the softest of sounds. 

Spock brushed through the hair his touch found, slowly exploring with his fingers, until he found the flesh at its center. 

“Oh...Spock…”

Spock carefully measured the circumstance with his fingers, being careful to be unfailingly gentle. 

Jim twitched and panted. “I must say...I never took you for a tease.”

“A…‘tease’, captain?”

Laughter broke through Jim’s throat at the same time as a moan and he almost choked. “‘Captain’, Spock? Surely that’s a little...formal...for the situation.”

“I…Jim.”

“That’s better. But...ah...you’re still about to make me...expire from tension. Hyperbolically speaking.”

“Do you wish me to stop?”

“I—ah!—no, I...please, Spock.”

“Please?”

Jim clenched his eyes shut. “Please…” he whispered. “Please, if you...I want...more.”

The broken sounds that Jim was offering had effects on Spock that he did not want to examine too closely. So instead of thinking, he shifted to free his other hand to find Jim’s lower hip and trail downward to meet the other. 

Jim twitched hard and groaned. 

It was an...intriguing sound. Spock wanted to hear it again. 

Perhaps, if he caressed...upward…

The sound that escaped Jim’s lips was almost indescribable. He threw his head back and clenched the sheets. 

“I…” said Jim, trying to catch his breath. “I suppose that’s...emotional human reactions for you.”

“I would not have you be other than human, Jim.”

“Nor would I have you be other than exactly who you are.”

Spock could have responded in many ways, but no words seemed quite to fit the moment, so he let his fingers speak for him. 

He played the harp for many years now, and he moved his fingers with the grace of long practice even as he explored the new terrain of Jim’s flesh. 

“Spock,” gasped Jim after several minutes of sounds that didn’t quite reach the level of words. “Spock, I...oh…just a little more, PLEASE, just a little harder.”

“If you are sure I will not hurt you…”

Jim gave a choked laugh. “Remind me to...bring that up,” he managed. “But you won’t...just...please—”

Obediently, Spock mentally shifted his musician’s thinking and attempted a crescendo. 

“SPOCK!”

Jim jolted at the hips hard enough to knock Spock’s hands away. He gasped for air like he had just remembered how to breathe. 

Spock settled his hand against Jim’s navel again until the jerking motions settled back into peace. 

Jim sighed deeply, and Spock could feel his muscles go lax.

“I certainly hope that wasn’t unpleasant to you,” said Jim. “Because that was one of the moments I will treasure until the end of my days.”

“It was...not unpleasant, no.”

Jim smiled. “I’m glad,” he said, placing one hand on Spock’s arm and gazing into his eyes. “And if at some point you are comfortable with it, I would be...more than ready to return the favor.”

Spock closed his eyes and let a breath pass before allowing himself to consider that. 

“It is...not today,” he said. “But I do not believe it will never come.”

Jim smiled. 

“Well,” he said. “In any case, I’m going to need a shower before heading to the bridge. Do you think you’re up for a milk run duty shift today, or do you still need time to recover from a bout of the...ah...Tarkelian Flu?”


	3. Chapter 3

Spock’s bed saw very little use. 

He still used his quarters to work and meditate, but when it was time to sleep, he always seemed to find himself back in Jim’s quarters. 

Jim looked up, as he always did, and smiled in welcome. “Just finishing up the last of the Altair reports,” he said. “It’ll be nice to have that off my plate. I’ll just be a minute, make yourself at home.”

Spock made way to bed and absently sat down, but Jim’s words seemed to ripple in the air. At home, he said. He had gone so far to try to get home, but...perhaps home had come to him. 

“There,” said Jim with satisfaction, and clasped his hands over his head and stretched back. “Finally.”

He rose from his chair and wandered over to obtain a glass of water, and then looked over at Spock. “Tired?” he asked. 

“Not especially.”

“Me neither.”

Jim stretched again and pulled off his shirt. “Any idea how to fill the time until we’re sleepy?” 

Spock hesitated. They had spent more time simply lying entwined on the bed than anything else, but...even when they had done more, he had still been hesitant to let Jim return his touch. 

“I…”

“Hmm?” said Jim when he hesitated too long. 

“I...might.”

Jim laughed. “Come on, Spock, I’M not the telepath in this relationship.”

Spock stood and slowly removed his own shirt. 

“I have found myself...growing more comfortable in this...arrangement.” 

“I’m glad.” Kirk kicked off his pants and sat down on the bed. 

Spock slowly removed his own and set them aside as carefully as ever, and then considered his next words as he sat down next to Jim. 

“It is…” He stopped, and tried again. “Thus far, I have found myself experiencing...discomfort, at the idea of allowing my body to...react. As yours does.”

“I see,” said Jim, and his smile was soft. “I take it that has changed?”

“I find my...curiosity overwhelming my reluctance.”

“Hmm,” said Jim, and reached out to stroke Spock’s arm—a safe gesture. “Well, I am certainly willing to help you explore these...curiosities.”

“I am...unsure precisely what I am asking for.”

Jim smiled lopsidedly. “It sounds like you want to let yourself feel what I can do to you. What I can do to your...control.”

A shiver ran up Spock’s spine. He instantly tried to control it, and then fought with himself to allow it. 

“Jim. I.”

The smile spread further across Jim’s face. He leaned closer so that his breath brushed Spock’s cheek. “Why Spock, coming undone already?”

Spock inhaled forcefully and made an overwhelming effort. “Your...words. Your presence. You make the prospect of losing control...tolerable.”

Jim’s eyes softened. “That’s…thank you. Thank you, Spock.” He took a moment to think whatever thoughts he had about that, and then shifted, pulling one knee up on the bed so he could face Spock more fully. “Did you have any...specific actions in mind?”

“I do not. I believe I would prefer to allow your input in the matter.”

“Hmm.” Jim stroked Spock’s arm and up to his shoulder. “Well, perhaps you could simply lie back and let me...explore the options.”

Spock nodded, considered a moment, and rose to his feet.

“I believe, perhaps, full nudity would be more...efficient.” 

“I am certainly...not opposed.”

Spock took a long moment to remove his undergarments, and then folded them with far more care than necessary and placed them evenly atop his other discarded clothing. He tried to pretend it wasn’t shame. 

He turned back around and finally looked up to meet Jim’s eyes. 

He wasn’t quite sure what he expected. Lust? Curiousity? Shock?

But no. The look on Jim’s face was a different one. It was something filled with shades of appreciation and wonder and a sense of enormous privilege—the same face he had seen so many times before when Jim had beheld some new and glorious facet of the universe. 

“Oh yes,” murmured Jim, almost too softly for even Spock’s hearing, and then looked up at Spock’s eyes. “I always seem to forget your blood is green,” he said conversationally, and then, without making Spock come up with a response, added, “So...would you like to lie down?”

Silently, Spock knelt on the bed beside him, and then turned to lie with his head on Jim’s pillow. 

“You’re tense,” said Jim. 

“I am...unable to completely control that response.”

“Are you sure this is something you want? It’s never too late to change your mind. Not now, not in the middle of the action.”

Spock breathed a moment. “I am certain I wish to make an attempt.”

Jim smiled. “All right. Everyone starts with a little uncertainty.” He shifted and reached out to run his fingers down Spock’s ribs. “But still, there’s no rush.”

Spock made another effort to let go of at least a little tension. “That is true.”

Jim shifted and lay next to Spock, propping himself up on one elbow and letting his free hand dance up and down Spock’s abdomen and around his hips. 

“So,” he said, running his fingers through the hair on Spock’s chest. “I believe we have sufficiently established that you are in favor of the use of hands in this...capacity.”

“That is accurate,” said Spock, not at all sure where this is going. 

Jim’s smile twitched, and then grew into a grin. “So...have you ever considered the possibilities of...lips?”

Spock opened his mouth, and then had to close it again before he could answer. 

“I believe I require….elaboration.”

“Well, Vulcans may express intimacy with their hands, but humans have a tendency to prefer to leave...similar levels of expression...to their mouths.”

It was entirely illogical for his breath to be so irregular for no physical reason. 

“...show me.”

Jim’s eyes glowed like a flame in the wind.

“If you...insist.”

He shifted again and leaned down, leaning over Spock’s body until he found the exact patch of skin that stretched over Spock’s Vulcan heart. “Something like this…” he murmured, and then bent down to press his lips against Spock’s ribs, and then sucking in just a taste of air, leaving a most peculiar sensation against Spock’s skin. 

It was not even a particularly intense sensation, but it sent shockwaves throughout Spock’s body, and he once again had to fight within himself to let his body experience them. 

“That is a...unique...experience.”

Jim only smiled wider. “You’re not wrong,” he said, “but...there’s more. There’s so much more.”

More? 

He would break if it were much more. 

_That is why you are here,_ whispered a small part of himself. _This is Jim. No one else. You trust him._

“...then show me more.”

It was supposed to be a measured statement, but his voice broke trying to get it out.

Jim let his hands drift down and take hold of Spock’s hips. “I want,” he breathed. “I want to do my very best to make you lose control. I want to hear you react to my touch. I want you to make you _feel_ without regard to whether you _should_. Is that...acceptable to you?”

Spock’s hands were trembling before he realized he had clenched them. 

“I believe,” he croaked, “that you are already well on your way to your desired outcome.”

Jim let his eyes make their way down Spock’s body. “I see,” he said with vocal satisfaction. 

Spock closed his eyes and tried again to remind himself to let go. 

The bed shifted beneath him, and when he opened his eyes, Jim was straddling him and looking down at his naked body. 

It was a profoundly vulnerable position...but the presence of what should have been a threat suddenly made sense of the tension that Spock wasn’t able to force from his frame. 

It was not fear. It was anticipation. 

“Jim.”

“Spock,” breathed Jim in response. “Oh, Spock. You have no idea what I’ve wanted to do to you.”

“I sense that I shall soon discover what that is.”

Jim leaned down, their frames parallel on the bed, but he did not allow them to touch. “Perhaps some of it,,” he murmured, and his breath tickled Spock’s neck until the hairs stood at attention. 

Spock wasn’t sure how such an eternity of waiting could possibly have fit into the few seconds he objectively knew had passed. 

Then Jim leaned closer and pressed his lips against the side of Spock’s neck. 

The shower of sparks in his skin left him gasping, and unconsciously flinching against the onslaught of fire in his veins. 

But it did not come. His skin still vibrated with almost overwhelming sensation, but it did not burn. He was safe. He could feel and be safe. 

“Jim…” 

He reached up blindly, finding Jim’s body and pulling it closer, trying to guide him, but not sure where he was guiding him. 

Jim smiled against his skin. “You want more,” he said, and it was more statement than question. 

“Show me what I want,” gasped Spock. 

Jim’s lips kissed their way down his belly with torturous slowness.

“You want so much,” Jim whispered. “You want….”

He trailed off, but nudged Spock’s legs to give himself more room between them. 

“You want to feel me.”

Jim let himself fall to his elbows and brushed his hands against Spock’s hips excruciatingly gently. 

“Oh, Jim. Let me...let me understand.” He shuddered. 

Jim steadied him with firmer pressure on his hips. “I will,” he promised. “Oh, I will.” He smiled again, lifting up just enough to meet Spock’s eyes properly. “There are so many things I could do, even now, but...perhaps it’s just human selfishness. But I want...I want to know what you _taste_ like.”

Confusion mixed with curiosity turned into an unbearable need to find out. 

“If you...if that is what you desire…”

He couldn’t quite bring himself to admit that Jim might not be the only one who desired it. 

Jim dipped his head and took the smallest, gentlest taste. 

Spock found the sheets threatening to rip under his grip. 

“Hmm,” said Jim with just a hint of coyness. “I’m not sensing any objection this far…”

“No, Jim,” Spock managed. “No...objections.”

Jim must also not have had any objections to the taste of Spock’s skin, because he tasted it again, and then again, and then his fingers dug into Spock’s hips to pull him closer and he seemed to try to drink Spock’s entire being in through his flesh. 

He almost succeeded, because Spock found that his awareness almost had to leave his body just to cope with the unbearable, irresistible sensations that Jim was somehow able to force him to experience. 

He tried to say Jim’s name again, but he could not control his tongue or lips or breath, and any words beyond the _Jim_ he longed to say were beyond the capacity even of his mind. The inability should have filled him with horror, but he was too full to feel it. 

Jim let go to pant for a moment, and Spock struggled against his hands, wanting, needing—

Once more Jim pulled him in and freely offered that blessed tension that was almost more torture than relief. 

How could anyone possibly seek this out? Surely it was easier to simply avoid it. Surely this unbearable tension was not...was not _pleasant,_ so why did he—

A supernova burst within him. 

He was thrown into a space of incomprehension lit up with dazzling understanding. 

An eternity later, a gasping breath pulled him back into his own physical existence, and he felt both gloriously full and bonelessly empty. 

Jim was smiling. 

“Do you understand now?”

Spock took in enough air to answer. 

“I believe I may have...a slightly better idea of your...motivations.”

“Slightly?” said Jim with a grin.

“I would not, of course, be averse to further...research.”

Jim laughed, full and deep. “The highest of praises,” he said, and then pulled himself up and flopped down next to Spock. 

Spock finally finished gathering his breath, and then turned to see him better. “Indeed. I can think of no one else I would be willing to...share this... _research_...with.”

Jim smiled and ran his hand from Spock’s shoulder to elbow and back again. “I treasure that,” he said softly. “I can assure you I will never tire of exploring whatever experiences you want to...research.” He slowed and rested his hand on Spock’s upper arm. “But I wasn’t lying, before, either. Exploring the depths of...gratification...will never tire me—but nor will holding you without expecting more, or letting you show me your own ways of expressing closeness, or quietly sitting with you and letting a chess set be the pretext for interaction. I just...really need you to understand that, please? I just have to know that whatever you choose to explore with me...that it’s because you choose it freely.”

“Jim. I...I would never intentionally draw you into something that either of us opposed.”

“As long as ‘both of us’ includes _you,_ I think we’ll be fine.”

Spock closed his eyes and simply breathed for a moment. 

He was safe. He was home. 

“Jim.”

“Yes, dearest?”

“Will you...hold me?”

Jim reached out and pulled Spock against his body, skin to skin, flesh to flesh, heart to heart.

“Always.”

Spock closed his eyes and made his frame let go and settle against Jim’s embrace. It took a few breaths and several focused moments of concentrated effort, but he finally found the equilibrium he sought and sank back against Jim’s chest. 

“Spock,” Jim murmured when he finally managed to let go. “Spock. Nearest to my heart.”

“There is a Vulcan word…” Spock said, barely above a whisper.

“Tell me,” breathed Jim. “Make me understand.”

“T’hy’la,” said Spock. “My...my t’hy’la.”

“Show me…”

Spock found Jim’s arm and traced down until he found his fingers. 

“Friend,” he said softly. “Brother. Lover. All of those. More than all of those.”

“Even one of those would be more than I could ever have asked,” said Jim. “All of them? I would never have dreamed of such a privilege.”

“Then perhaps...you are not the only one with possibilities left to demonstrate.”

Jim smiled and let his eyes close. “There is no news any part of me would rather hear,” he said. “But I’m only human, and I’m tired. Can we...leave some of these discoveries to the undiscovered county, at least until the morning?”

“Of course,” said Spock. “There is no rush.”

And there was not. There was only the glorious open expanse of time for them to fill with each other.


End file.
